Collecting is an illness
We can all recover from
Things thought unique
Are devalued en masse

The Endless quests for
Meaningless variations
The infinite minutiae
That no-one finds interesting
But it’s never enough. . . is it?

It starts off innocent enough
Two items nearly similar
Then two to complete a set
Ten more to complete the series

And there’s always the ****** awkward piece
The ‘sort-after’
The 'must-have'
That’s so ******* expensive
But you've got to have it
That’s collecting for you.
‘It’ll be worth something someday’
Yeah, not in my lifetime
Somebody else’s maybe

Collecting is an illness
It makes us secretive
It makes us sneaky
It makes us blind
It makes us greedy
It makes us needy
It makes us poor

I am a collector
And I’m on the road
To recovery